Halifax
by IronInnocence
Summary: And he was surrounded by rubble and bodies and death, and the brave nation felt utterly lost for once. Relating to the Halifax Explosion, December 6, 1917. My first fanfiction ever, be nice :D Rated for violence. Multi-chapter fic.


A/N: My first-ever fanfic! Don't be too harsh, I know I still have a lot to learn. Constructive criticism and/or historical nit-picking welcome. (I don't mind revamping chapters that have errors.) All times and dates are completely precise. In the explosion, 2000 people were killed, and almost 10,000 were injured. I know someone has already written a Halifax explosion story, but after learning about it in school, I just had to write this. Poor Mattie. ;_; We love you. And be warned… I'm starting this at 2:15 a.m.

Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own Hetalia... If I did… I would probably buy a new laptop, a Vocaloid (LEN-SAMA *u*), or perhaps an iTouch.

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[halifax.]

" Damn it, I have to hurry…" said one flustered American, trying desperately to pull on his shoes, brush his hair, and combat Kumajiro for the last donut simultaneously. With a sigh of exasperation, he realized that the task was too great for even a hero, and let the white bear sink his teeth into the pastry.

Finally managing to look decent after a number of minutes spent struggling, he gave a contented sigh. Checking his watch, the man cursed. "Aw, shit!" Running a hand through his hair, fingers catching on a persistent cowlick, the blonde then said, "Matt's gonna be pissed…"

So he took out his cell phone and dialed with practiced ease, the clicking sounds of buttons meshing together into one long sound. He hit the green button, drumming his fingers on the granite countertop anxiously as the sound of ringing blared into his ear.

After the third ring, Matthew finally picked up. "Hello?" The man winced at his brother's voice. He certainly sounded like someone was late for a meeting with him, voice unusually sharp and swift for the soft-spoken, more reserved young man.

Finally, the man managed to choke out, "Hey, M-Mattie, it's me, Al."

There were a few seconds of silence so potent Alfred started to wish Matt would yell at him. Then, he got his wish, the younger man's fury jolting him back into reality as Matthew screamed, "Where the HELL ARE YOU?!?!? I have been waiting at this restaurant, Alfred F. Jones, for 35 minutes." He said, voice lowered to a hiss by the end of the second sentence.

The American shuddered, already afraid of the wrath that his brother would incur on him as soon as he got home. Even though his brother was one of the most reserved of nations, he could get angry. And FAST.

"Alfred, you were supposed to meet me at the restaurant at 8:05. It is now 8:38." His tone was like ice. Matthew continued relentlessly, "You ALWAYS DO THIS!!!! Especially the other day, when you just left me for Russia. I was going to say something really important, but NO, you just…"

He continued in this vein for a while, leaving Alfred to wonder, "God, why's he so cranky today? Maybe he's PMSing…" The blonde laughed aloud at his own joke, which made Matthew stop.

"Did you just laugh?" His whisper sounded incensed, and Alfred instantly began to feel bad. "Sorry, Matt, what were y-" But he cut himself off. Now that no yelling came from the other end of the line, he could hear something very faint. The sound of screams.

Instantly worried, Alfred said, "Mattie, what the hell is that? Why are people screaming?"

Matthew dismissed the topic, stating brusquely, "Who knows, Alfred. They're by the harbor, though, so it's no concern of ours. Now, about that time y-…"

"Matthew! I asked what was going on!" insisted Alfred, still nervous. With a sigh of resignation, the Canadian male said, "Fine, I'll go check."

A few moments passed in which the only sound over the line was footsteps, a door opening and shutting, and the calls of seagulls. The screams were audible again, this time even more so than before.

"W-What the…" The younger male sounded confused. "What, Matt? What's going on?" "The ships… There's ships about to collide in the marina." "Oh, God, I hope no one gets hurt." "Me t-"

But Matthew was cut off by one of the loudest noises Alfred had ever heard. An earsplitting noise beyond comparison rattled his eardrums for the briefest of seconds, and then the line went dead.

Ears ringing horribly, Alfred screamed, "MATTHEW!?? WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?? MATT!!!!" The silence seemed even louder than the previous noise as he stared, horrified, at the phone, praying to God his brother was alright.

When it finally became evident that Alfred would not be receiving a response, the American growled in frustration, trying to mask his fear by taking deep breaths and running a hand through his coarse hair. Kumajiro whimpered, sensing that something was off.

Immediately, Alfred grabbed his bomber jacket and pulled it on roughly, running to the front door and wrenching it open. There was no time to waste.

He had to know.

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WHEW! There's Chapter One. I know I said this, but this is my first story, so review and be nice, kay?~

Didn't plan on this fic being multi-chapter, but I'm too lazy to finish it right now and I needed to post something, or my friends would be poking me until I did…

So anyway, the next chappie should be up soon.


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